Meet Cute - Blog Posts

Supernova Love | spacedogs oneshot

There were four minutes and thirty-seven seconds left when a body slid next to his, just an arm’s length away. Adam focused on the ratty shoelaces of his midnight blue converses, not wanting to risk conversation. He was so close to this night being over. In three minutes he could just go home and lay down in bed, star projector on the ceiling, and a documentary playing softly in the background.

“Hey!” They yelled over the music.

Adam’s heart seized with anxiety, his chest clenching painfully, and he swallowed thickly. Maybe he could just pretend that he couldn’t hear them.

“Hey!” They yelled again, louder.

Reluctantly, Adam turned, his head heavy on his his neck, and looked. It was the guy from earlier with the silly shirt. He was taller up close and more intimidating than the little doggies let on. He had nice eyes though, sharp cheekbones, and a soft jawline. And he was sucking on another cigarette. The tip of it glowed in the dim room and a puff of smoke followed a moment later, the teen taking a moment to chew on the flavor.

“Hello…” Adam said. His nose wrinkled at the smell of cigarette smoke wafting his way. The guy smelled like he had already smoked a pack of them.

“You good?” He asked. “You’ve been here a while. You sick or some shit?”

Adam swallowed and replied, “No, I’m not. Just, uhm, overwhelmed.” He knew that he was half-shouting just so he could be heard over the music, but it sounded quiet to his own ears.

“Mm,” The guy acknowledged. His bony fingers plucked the cigarette from his lips and offered it to Adam.

Adam vehemently shook his head and the guy paused like he just realized something, then shrugged and took another drag.

Adam watched his cheeks sink in with the motion, strangely enraptured by the sight of it. The guy made eye contact with him for a second as he inhaled and Adam quickly looked away, it felt like a burn. When he exhaled, he turned the other way and Adam blinked in surprise.

”You gonna drink that?” He asked, gesturing to the drink in Adam’s hand.

”Uhm, no. I don’t drink,” Adam said timidly. He forgot he was even holding the cup.

”What?” The guy asked, leaning closer to hear him.

”Uh- I-I said I don’t drink!” Adam repeated louder. The smell of cigarettes become stronger and his head spun from it. The strangers face was startlingly close for a moment and he felt like he could barely breathe.

“What?!” They guy exclaimed, reeling back. “You don’t smoke or drink? The fuck’re you doing here then?” A few ashes fell off the tip of his cigarette.

Adam’s face felt hot, irrationally embarrassed about not participating in casual substance use. “I’m here for my friend!” He explained.

”Oh yeah? Where is he?”

She, Adam wanted to correct, but it felt pointless.

“Uhm I don’t know.”

”So, he just left you here?”

”I guess.”

The other teen’s upper lift lifted into a little snarl, something that Adam didn’t see a lot of people do. Then, he muttered something, but Adam was never good at reading lips.

”What?” Adam asked.

The guy waved it off, taking another drag from his cigarette. It was too short to keep sucking on, so he dropped it and snuffed it out under his leather boot, then picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket. Adam wondered how many were in there.

From his angle, he watched the other teen’s shaggy ashen-blonde hair flop from its gelled style and when he stood back up, a few strands had fallen over his forehead. It looked better this way, he thought, but the guy ran a hand through his hair to smooth it back. Adam could see the sweat on his neck glistening beneath the strobe lights.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked.

With you? Adam wanted to say, but he nodded regardless because he really, really did want to leave. He would rather leave with a stranger than stay a moment longer.

Shirt Guy—Adam was calling him that in his head now—walked past him and through the doors. He trailed behind him like a shadow, face-to-face with little dachshunds. The outside air was blissfully cool and he took a deep breath of fresh air, savoring it as his lungs expanded. They walked down the steps descending into the roundabout in front of the mansion and sat next to each other on the last one.

“So, what do you do if you’re not drinking or smoking?” Shirt Guy asked. His voice sounded different when it was quiet and he had an accent that Adam somehow didn’t notice until now. He was just too overwhelmed before to register it.

“Uhm, I read or go to the park. I go to the museum too…when I can,” Adam said. He wondered why Shirt Guy was even talking to him, he didn't think he was interesting enough.

Shirt Guy grinned wolfishly and said, “So, you’re a nerd.”

Adam’s lips pursed in displeasure. “I guess,” He shrugged. “What do, uh, what do you do?”

”I fix cars.”

”Oh,” Adam said. “Cool.”

Shirt Guy snorted like he knew that Adam didn’t actually care and that was a little embarrassing.

“You like milkshakes?”

“...Milkshakes?”

|

Read the rest on Ao3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64567516

I wholeheartedly agree, it is such a joy to listen to them trying to understand and convey their feelings.

If anyone is looking for an incredibly cute MlM romantic comedy audiodrama podcast please listen to Kaleidotrope it is so adorable it has me laughing and smiling and basically looking like a huge dork in my otherwise boring office :).

DPxDC Dead Tired Coffeeshop Accident

For one reason or another, Danny is now living in Gotham and working in a coffeeshop. For one reason or another, Tim frequents the same coffeeshop.

Now, both of them are honest to god messes who treat sleep like a grave enemy. Meaning they both survive on coffee, spite, energy drinks, and their respective hyperfocuses.

They don't even talk, really, they just see each other from time to time: Tim knows the barista who looks like he's been dead for weeks is named Danny, and Danny knows how to make Tim's Death Wish with his eyes closed, but other than that, they are just strangers who largely don't care about each other.

That is, until one time after his patrol, Tim comes to the said coffeeshop in his Red Robin gear. He doesn't even think about it, he simply needs coffee. He comes to the counter. He orders. His voice is tired and emotionless. He just wants his coffee and maybe stare at a wall for a few hours until his brain reboots. Danny takes his order without even looking at him. He has been sitting and staring at a wall for a few hours, night shifts are literally killing him.

They are both so done.

Red Robin waits for his coffee. Danny makes it almost automatically, his mind elsewhere. The coffeeshop is empty, save for them two. It's four in the morning. Nothing feels real.

Danny sets the cup on the counter.

"One Death Wish for Tim," he says out of a habit, not fully registering they are alone, and he doesn't need to do that.

Tim takes the coffee without thinking, nods a silent 'thank you'. Brings the cup up to his mouth-

And notices a glove on his own hand.

He is in Red Robin get up.

He freezes and looks at the barista, who is cleaning the coffeemachine. Danny, noticing him looking, also looks back at him. Did he make the wrong order? He knows Tim's soul, he's seen it a lot, he couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, but maybe he forgot to add syrup?..

There's a domino mask on Tim's face. A vigilante domino mask.

They stare at each other. No one moves. No one blinks. The sun is rising somewhere over the city.

Tim takes a sip of his coffee. Danny goes back to cleaning the coffeemachine.

They never speak of this again, but Tim becomes a regular here in both of his personas.

meeting my gf for the first time

her: *earbuds in, sitting by herself in a school bus wearing a "please don't talk to me" hat*

me: I like your hat! :D

yes i can read, no i did not care

Roadside Inspiration

“Eyes on the road!” Adrien’s voice boomed throughout the car; voice distorted through the car speakers.

Marinette squeaked, eyes snapping back to the road as the car swerved slightly, which on the backroad she was on, was particularly dangerous.  The roads were narrow with no shoulders.  There was barely enough room for two cars and no room for error.  “Don’t do that!” she screeched back, one hand flying to her chest to calm her now racing heart.  “And I am keeping my eyes on the road.  I know how to drive a car, Adrien!” she growled, fully ignoring the fact that at the time, her eyes were not, in fact, on the road.

“You’re seriously going to tell me you aren’t allowing yourself to get distracted looking for the perfect view in all the lavender?” he scoffed.

Marinette opened her mouth and snapped it shut.  “Yes,” she answered resolutely, with a curt nod to emphasize the point despite knowing full well that he couldn’t see it.

Adrien snorted at the baldfaced lie.  “Sure, Maribug.  We’re just leaving Marseilles now.  How far from the venue are you?”

“Prat,” she grumbled.  She may get easily distracted and she may not be used to driving a car, it wasn’t like she had many opportunities in Paris, but she was an excellent scooter driver and really, how different was it?  And she was keeping her eyes on the road!  It was just the occasional glance to the side to look at the stretching fields of lavender.  It was a positive thing really.  They encourage you to be aware of your surroundings when you drive!

Keep reading

‘Guaradians’

It’s been two years since I rebloged a little teaser of my submission for Of Feathers & Wings: A Good Omens Zine. I guess it’s time to post the full picture 😅

DPxDC Dead Tired Coffeeshop Accident

For one reason or another, Danny is now living in Gotham and working in a coffeeshop. For one reason or another, Tim frequents the same coffeeshop.

Now, both of them are honest to god messes who treat sleep like a grave enemy. Meaning they both survive on coffee, spite, energy drinks, and their respective hyperfocuses.

They don't even talk, really, they just see each other from time to time: Tim knows the barista who looks like he's been dead for weeks is named Danny, and Danny knows how to make Tim's Death Wish with his eyes closed, but other than that, they are just strangers who largely don't care about each other.

That is, until one time after his patrol, Tim comes to the said coffeeshop in his Red Robin gear. He doesn't even think about it, he simply needs coffee. He comes to the counter. He orders. His voice is tired and emotionless. He just wants his coffee and maybe stare at a wall for a few hours until his brain reboots. Danny takes his order without even looking at him. He has been sitting and staring at a wall for a few hours, night shifts are literally killing him.

They are both so done.

Red Robin waits for his coffee. Danny makes it almost automatically, his mind elsewhere. The coffeeshop is empty, save for them two. It's four in the morning. Nothing feels real.

Danny sets the cup on the counter.

"One Death Wish for Tim," he says out of a habit, not fully registering they are alone, and he doesn't need to do that.

Tim takes the coffee without thinking, nods a silent 'thank you'. Brings the cup up to his mouth-

And notices a glove on his own hand.

He is in Red Robin get up.

He freezes and looks at the barista, who is cleaning the coffeemachine. Danny, noticing him looking, also looks back at him. Did he make the wrong order? He knows Tim's soul, he's seen it a lot, he couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, but maybe he forgot to add syrup?..

There's a domino mask on Tim's face. A vigilante domino mask.

They stare at each other. No one moves. No one blinks. The sun is rising somewhere over the city.

Tim takes a sip of his coffee. Danny goes back to cleaning the coffeemachine.

They never speak of this again, but Tim becomes a regular here in both of his personas.

The Reporter and The Lawyer - The Devil and the Protector

Title: The Reporter and The Lawyer - The Devil and the Protector

Pairing: Matt Murdock/ Eddie Brock

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2333

Warnings: Graphic Intimacy

Summary: Matt picks up a strange man in a bar. But when he takes him home, the evening turns even stranger.

Created for:

@slashmultiverse Daily Pride Prompts: 2: "Formal Wear", 3: Threesome/Moresome

@anyfandomgoesbingo / Square(s) Filled: "Threesome"

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47597293

I basically instigated a meet cute the other day.

It was raining really heavy and I was waiting for the bus and there was only one guy at the bus stop with no umbrella or hood, trying to put his laptop in his bag

So obviously I was like we should share the umbrella I'm holding, and it was really funny because we did not fit (it was a small umbrella.) He told me he was going to be late for his first shift at a new job and we laughed about it.

Don't even know his name

A Stitch in Time

Suzuya Juuzou x Reader

Content/Warnings: sfw, fem!reader, fluff, meet-cute, embroidery, slight blood mention.

Words: 1k

Synopsis: When the café is empty you can't help but work on one of you embroidery projects. What you don't expect is for a random, and rather cute, customer to appear and take interest in your embroidery.

A/N: Suzuya is one of my favourite characters in Tokyo Ghoul and the fact that there aren't many fics for him is breaking my heart. Also I don't know how alive the fandom is (since I'm new to it) but here we go!

The café is utterly empty except for you. Soft instrumental music playing in the background as you stay behind the counter, just in case of a customer appearing. Not like you are paying much attention to your surroundings as you are working on one of your embroidery projects, improving a simple black tank top you got some time ago. Making it more… you. And embroidery was your thing. You started a few years ago after seeing some videos online and got absolutely fascinated with it. The way you can make beautiful art with just a needle and thread, it's… It's just beautiful. Of course the first tries and the little practice projects you've done always ended with bloody fingers at how many times you pricked them with the needle. But every time you got better at it. And now you're not even stabbing your fingers anymore. Getting more confident in your work-craft that even the apron you are wearing at the moment has flowers embroidered on it.

That being said, you are so focused on your work that you don't even notice when the café's door opens, the needle in your hand being the only thing you can see, the music the only thing you hear.

"Hello?" startled you look up at the person and prick your finger as you were mid-stitch. 

"Ouch!" you whine before putting the project aside, remembering you are at work and have to do your actual job. "Ah, sorry! What can I get for you?" you ask, smiling at the dark-haired boy who only looks at you curiously. You can't help but notice the little red… tattoos…? Under his eye and lip. There's no way that's thread, no? 

"Are you okay? That looks like it hurt," he asks, looking at your hurt finger where a bead of blood already started forming. You only shrug, continuing to smile as you answer him.

"I'm fine, it's just a little prick anyway," getting a napkin you fastly wrap it around your index finger to hide it away. "So… What can I get for you today?" you repeated but the boy seemed more interested in what you were working on before, actually leaning over the counter to look at your half-embroidered tank top then he looked up at you again, more so at your apron.

"Hey, are you the one who did the flowers on your apron?" he suddenly asks, shifting to face you, his big red eyes full of curiosity and wonder. A little too close for your liking and making you flush just the tiniest bit.

"Yea—Yeah. Why?" 

"I like them! Your stitches are very precise. You must have a lot of practice." he states smiling, and that somewhat takes you off guard. In the six months you worked at this café no one has ever complimented your work. Or even noticed that you are the only waitress with a different apron.

"Oh, thank you," you genuinely thank him, deciding there's no harm in entertaining him for a while. You two are the only ones here anyway. "Do you like embroidery?" the boy's smile widens, the gesture pulling at the red lines under his lip that you are starting to think are actual pieces of thread stitched into his skin.

"Yes, something like that! I love sewing and stitching! See!" he excitedly says lifting his right arm to show you the stitches on it. And only then do you also finally notice 'x's on his neck. You freeze, slightly off put by the display, and shiver at the thought of needle puncturing skin. How can you do that to yourself? Is the first question going through your mind. Then: do they hurt? Of course, they hurt idiot… But are they still hurting after healing? Are they like tattoos or piercings? Paining you when they are done but after healing you don't even know they are there? The boy's smile slowly fades away at your stupefied gaze. 

"You're—"

"Do they hurt?" you blurt out before he can continue, your eyes roaming over the red thread on his arm.

"Not really," he states. "Tho I'm kinda insensitive to pain." 

You nod, slowly processing what he just said. "You sure do love stitching." just like you love embroidery. You can somewhat understand him, though you could never do that to yourself.

"Mhm. Just like you do embroidery." he hums approvingly, seeing how your face shifts from concerned to gentle. And just like that his smile returns. "What were you working on?" and his curiosity too. You couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped you.

"Just adding my touch to a tank top," you say glancing at the tambour hoop holding the fabric in place. "Do you wanna see?" 

His eyes practically sparkle at your question, an immediate "yes!" following. 

You laugh again, revealing the half-finished piece of a white snake coiled around a golden crescent moon, little stars sprinkled around.

"Wow!" the boy exclaims, leaning closer to take in every detail. "It's beautiful! The details are amazing. How do you get the stitches so precise?" you slightly flush at the compliment, smiling wider as his enthusiasm rubs on you.

"With lots of practice and patience," you answer while he still analyzes your work.

"I'd love to learn how to do that!" and you find yourself laughing once again. 

"I could teach you if you want." you offer in the heat of the moment, deciding that you like the boy and wouldn't mind spending more time with him.

"Really!?" the sparkles returned to his eyes that are now solemnly focused on you. "I'd love that! When can we start?" 

"Whenever you want. We could do it here after I finish my shift or on breaks. This week I'm on the early one and next week on the afternoon shift," you say and he nods excitedly.

"It's a deal!" he says thrusting his hand forward and you shake it while chuckling, putting the embroidery away.

"Deal," you confirm smiling. "By the way, I'm Y/N Y/L," you say totally aware of the nameplate on your chest but you still want to present yourself appropriately.

"Juuzou Suzuya!" he says, pulling his arm back.

"Nice to meet you, Suzuya!" you say, still smiling.

"Likewise Y/N!"